The Artist and the Aristocrat
by PrettyLittleArtist
Summary: Amy Cahill's an artist going to college in New York. Ian Kabra's an aristocrat. What happens when Ian visits New York and asks Amy to paint a portrait of him one week before his wedding? MESSAGE FROM authoress AMY CAHILL in 2nd chapter.
1. The Beginning

The Artist and the Aristocrat 

Hi! This is my first FF, but I think it has pretty good grammar.

I hope you enjoy it.

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20 year old Amy Cahill's forehead creased in frustration as her green eyes took in the surroundings that were oh so familiar. Central Park, New York. Ever since she had moved there last month, Amy had come there every day at 7:00 A.M. sharp, to see if anyone would buy like to buy a self portrait of themselves, drawn by herself, of course. Her price was a mere $15, yet she only sold about three a day. She knew she was lucky to at least have inherited half of her late parent's inheritance. Ever since she had been kicked out of her Aunt Beatrice's home, and disinherited . The reason? She became an artist, not a doctor like Aunt Beatrice wanted, and usually Aunt Beatrice got what she wanted. But Amy hadn't listened and left the house not one week later.

That had set in motion the events that caused Amy to gain more self confidence and lose her stutter.

Unlike her blond brother Dan, who had always had a gigantic ego.

16 year old Dan Cahill was talkative, annoying, and totally lovable. He may not have shown it, but he loved his sister. In fact, the only reason he wasn't with his auburn haired sister was because, well, Aunt Beatrice was paying for the fancy high school Dan was going to, in exchange for half of _his_ inheritance.

Not that Amy didn't understand. Dan needed to go to his high school; he had friends and actually…. pretty good grades. Amy was lucky that Aunt Beatrice had sprung for the discounted, nonrefundable, full four year pay at the college she was attending at the moment. NYU. It was a great school, and she had a nice private dorm.

Amy was brought out of her thoughts when a handsome man about her age strolled up to her and began to speak in a _very_ attractive British accent.

"Hello, my name is Ian Kabra. I see you paint portraits of people, the best out of this whole lot, obviously."

A baffled Amy managed to only nod her head. The… best? There must have been at least 20 people in the park! And anyways, tourists mostly from places like California and Vermont bought her paintings. The people that sprang for a decent, cheap portraits. True New Yorkers hardly ever bought her paintings, but Amy knew why. She was a foreigner. A painter that didn't belong in their beloved Central Park. Not to mention, Ian was obviously NOT a tourist. He was a traveler. The handsome exterior, the extravagant clothing, the neatly groomed black hair, the Italian shoes….he was obviously wealthy, perhaps even an aristocrat!

"Lovely. Would you paint me?" Ian said briskly, but with a slight smile twitching at his lips.

"Of course… Ian." Amy motioned for him to sit across from her.

They stayed like that for a while, Ian smiling regally, as if he was, as Amy suspected, an aristocrat, and Amy painting him.

"There!" As Amy brushed one last stroke on the canvas, she subtly checked her watch, and silently gasped. It had taken her two hours just to draw him! He must have been seriously stiff.

As if confirming her thoughts, Ian stood up with a groan and stretched. He took the canvas from Amy and smiled.

"Fantastic… truly worth it." He said, grinning as he paid her.

Amy's eyes widened as she stared at the hundred dollar bill Ian had just given her.

"Thank you."

"You deserve the gratitude, not I. Oh, and keep the change." "Ian chortled.

Amy smiled. "If you don't mind me asking, what's the painting for?"

Ian sighed. "My wedding."

Amy's heart dropped. O-Oh. So… when did you know you truly loved her? Or him."

Ian snorted at the 'Or him' part. "I don't. In England, I'm next in the bloodline to become prince, and when my uncle dies, king. But to first become a prince, so the bloody parliament dictates, I must marry a royal. I am, unfortunately, set to wed Lady Sinead Starling of Ekaterina."

"You don't like her?"

Ian rolled his amber eyes. "Not in the slightest. She's a ghastly woman."

"How about this, then? You invite me to the wedding, and I'll give you the best bachelor…er, week anyone's ever had?" Amy chuckled.

"I don't know about this…" Ian muttered.

"Hey, you won't have to be a part of the wedding plans, and you won't see Sinead for an entire week." Amy joked.

Ian's eyes flashed. "You're right. Let's go!" He grabbed her hand.

"What! I was just kid-" Amy was cut off by trucks honking loudly as Ian dragged her into the city.

'_Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap.' _Was all Amy could think of in the moment as she tried to think of what to do with practically a TOTAL stranger for a whole week in New York.

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So that was my first REALLY short chapter.

I should update soon, so Read and REVIEW!Love Ya!

~PrettyLittleArtist


	2. Getting to Know You

"So, commoner's county, eh?" Ian said, gazing at the scenery around him as he pulled on the auburn-haired girl's- known to New Yorkers as the average artist, average Amy Cahill- hand, rushing her forward.

"C-commoner's?" Amy stared at the boy in front of her in shock.

"Yes! Look at these small apartments, these shabby bricks! I would bet that these only cost..about 500,000 American dollars! A 'bargain' one would say, sure, but for this quality..." He clicked his toungue. "I would say not."

Amy gaped, opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish. _Stupid, rich bastard_, she thought darkly. But forcing a laugh, she nodded stiffly.

"Ahaha...Y-yeah, I guess. I'm not a rich pers- connoiseur, so I... wouldn't... r-really know."

Ian nodded, only half paying attention. "Oh, that's...interesting." He mumbled, staring at the shiny black leather of his Giorgio Armani shoes.

"Mmhmm." Amy murmured as the pair fell into an awkward silence.

"Ahem." Amy cleared her throat nervously after a few minutes. "S-so...what's it like to be a p-prince, Ian?I m-mean, your highness. Sorry, I f-forgot." she asked, slurring some of her words nervously, looking at the ground as she walked.

"Meh. All right. There are perks, good posture, good manners, good credit card limit." He laughed. "But...I spent more time learning how to use your pinky as a buffer to put a cup down silently then I did with my father..." He trailed off. "And please, call me Ian. I'm going to recieve enough, 'Your highness's' when I'm king."

A few people on the street stared at him, while others rolled their eyes and grumbled about mental institutions.

"Oh...and I-i-i-ian.." Amy shook her head. "Please let me call you Prince Ian. Ian's too...casual for someone like you."

Ian shrugged, which Amy took for consent.

"So, how does, a girl like you, lovely, of course," he winked, to which Amy could only blush and think about how the word_ 'womanizer' _suddenly made sense to her now_,_ "-become an artist. You are quite..." He searched for the word.

"Unassuming? Shy? Frumpy?" Amy supplied, and then flushed. Ian smiled slightly but did not discourage her. "Aha...um, well...it was something I took up when I was younger. My father liked to draw, so I learned from him. I never was really good, but I practiced when I was b-bored...Even now, my drawings are-they're, um...ha, pretty a-average."

Ian nodded. "I see. And where are your parents now?"

Amy sniffled and glanced away. "Um...they died. Illness."

"I'm so sorry."

Amy's eyes flashed. "I don't need your pity!" she cried, then blushed. "I-i-i-i-i-"

"Completely understand. "Ian smiled. He then sniffed. "_What_ are you wearing?"

"Eh? Oh, j- jeans, a t-shirt-"

"That's _what_, two years old?" He sneered. "If anyone saw me with you, they'd think I was a commoner!"

"I-i'm sorry..." Amy mumbled, embarrased.

Ian snorted, in a very royal way, of course. "And what is with that attitude?"

"I-i-i-"

Ian sighed. "Look, this week, _you_ are going to teach me how to have fun. I am going to teach you self-confidence."

Amy glanced up. "W-what are the merits in that? I-i'm pretty hopeless."

" Yes. Yes, you are. But I'm good at dealing with the hopeless. I've had hopeless dogs and maids before, you realize. And the _merits_ are, that I don't get embarrased at my own wedding." He groaned. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"W-what?"

"You reminded me that I'm going to get married. _Thanks._" He scowled.

"That wasn't my fault! It was you who-"

Ian laughed. "There you go! A little more confidence!"

Amy blushed. "S-so.." She tried,failingly, to change the subject. "Where would you like to go first?"

Ian frowned glancing up. "What would you recommend?"

"U-uh..for you?"

"No, for anyone. Good sights. I'm not blind, you know. In fact..." He straightened, and smirked at his handsome reflection in a nearby shop window. "I probably have better sight than anyone. I'm aristocracy, you realize."

Amy stifled a snort. "R-right. Um...how about The Statue of Liberty?"

"That sounds good. Take me there."

Amy sighed. "As you wish." She sighed. _This is going to be a long week..._

EndOFTHIS CHAPTER :)

Hey guys, PrettyLittleArtist here! I'm sorry I haven't updated for a while, but I've been pretty blocked. And I have high school so ugh :P It's great, Le Rosey is...but French is HARRRRRRDDD!

Also, remember Amy Cahill? She's my bestie , and I have word from her! (She's not dead!)

She really needs a break from story-writing, but she'll be back soon! she says she loves you :)

Please review, and I'll (hopefully) update soon.

~P.S. This chapter was reuploaded and edited.


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